Chapter 3: Old Rose (Thorns of the Past)

Adachi and Shimamuralightnovel — LNCrawler · All chapters

Chapter 3:
Old Rose
(Thorns of the Past)

~Wednesday, February 5~

E ACH TIME I looked up at the blackboard to copy down my notes, I caught sight of the back of Adachi’s head, swaying restlessly from side to side like a five-year-old’s loose baby tooth. But since she’d been acting like this for a while now, perhaps in some sense she was actually a lot more stable than I gave her credit for. Plus, she managed to be more entertaining than the lecture we were sitting through.

After school, she asked me what kind of chocolate I liked. I hadn’t anticipated this question, so it took me a minute. At first, I was tempted to respond with a joke answer, like “Oh, I only eat Godiva brand!” or something, but it was too risky. Knowing Adachi, she’d literally go out and buy me Godiva chocolate. So, instead, I gave her a safe answer: milk chocolate.

Looking back, she was probably trying to gauge my preferences so that she could buy me something I would enjoy eating. But by the time I realized I ought to ask her too, she was already gone. I didn’t go after her—instead, I promised myself that I’d try to remember to ask tomorrow.

Still, it felt as if she was jumping the gun a tiny bit. To me, ten days was an eternity from now. Deep down, part of me wished my time could fly by as fast as hers apparently did.

***

Out of all the moments of my day, time always, always seemed to slow to a crawl during study time. It would feel like I’d sat there for hours; then I’d look up at the clock and realize that only thirty minutes had gone by. This would kill my concentration, leaving me with no other option but to take a break.

Maybe that was what ultimately led to the addition of a small TV up here in the second-floor study room. Without something to keep my sense of time firmly grounded, I’d only get bored and distracted and end up falling asleep half the time.

Not that staying up late was going to make me any smarter anyway.

Leaning forward onto the table and ignoring the chill I felt against my lower back, I stared at the TV screen and watched long strands of hair whip through the air. This particular show started off with some crazy dance.

“Oh, it’s the Shaman.”

I was familiar with her. Even when she guest-starred on other shows, nothing she said ever made any sense. After performing, she’d run offstage and out onto the street. That was her schtick. In these parts—by which I mean the Nagoya area—she was considered a local celebrity, so she always guested on regional shows. Fun fact: recently, she’d made a stink about some blue-haired kid she saw on the street who she was convinced was an alien.

Ridiculous, am I right? Who jumps to that conclusion? LMAO. Wait a minute… Why does that sound so familiar?

As the Shaman slowed to a stop, gasping for breath, her costars kept the show rolling in her place. A few minutes in, I realized it was a horoscope show. I didn’t really care about astrology stuff, but I figured I might as well watch until my horoscope came up. Unfortunately, the horoscopes were listed by star sign. While I was pretty sure that I was an Aries or a Taurus, I wasn’t 100 percent sure which.

The Aries horoscope was “Be wary of forgotten memories. Your lucky color is blue.” Meanwhile, the one for Taurus was “Keep your eyes peeled, and you might witness something not intended for you!” As I attempted to decide which I liked better, the show continued. Once they started talking about some “special clue,” I hit the power button on the remote.

As much as I enjoyed the Shaman’s dancing, I didn’t care about horoscopes, so I couldn’t see myself watching it again.

Probably.

~Thursday, February 6~

I felt Adachi’s gaze on me. Granted, that alone wasn’t anything out of the ordinary…except we were in class, and she wasn’t physically looking at me.

I don’t know how you do it, but dayuum, girl.

For a while I wondered if I’d done something to provoke her, but I couldn’t really think of anything. Yet she hadn’t stopped staring at me ever since I arrived at my desk. In fact, at one point (before class started) she walked right up to me and stared at me point-blank. Clearly, something was going on; I just didn’t have a clue what .

Adachi walked back over at lunchtime, so I decided to grab a bite with her. Prepackaged sandwiches for both of us.

Every now and then my mom packed a lunch for me—you know, whenever she could be bothered to lift a finger—but Adachi wasn’t so lucky. However, I had a feeling that I knew the reason why. Whenever Adachi took a bite of something, I could tell from the way she chewed that she derived no joy from it. When I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Mrs. Adachi, I started to understand how miserable it might make her feel to watch her home-cooked meal steadily vanish into that emotionless abyss.

While Adachi had indeed acted strangely as of late, the fact remained that she was a human being with feelings. If she would only wear them more openly on her sleeve, maybe she and her mother could start to build something better.

That said, frankly, I had zero intention of trying to “fix” the Adachi family. If anything, I was more preoccupied with Adachi herself.

She kept staring at me, and since she didn’t seem to want a bite of my lunch or a sip of my drink, I wasn’t really sure what else I could do. Then, finally, she asked me something.

“Shimamura, what’s your sign?”

It was an odd question, and I wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the way she was acting today. Since I didn’t actually know the answer, I told her my birthday instead so she could tell me which one I was. Unfortunately, her response to that was less than enthusiastic.

Then Hino and Nagafuji showed up to join the conversation. Instantly I saw Adachi’s expression stiffen, though I wasn’t about to comment on it. The look in her eyes was as hard as the bread in our store-bought sandwiches.

Whenever it was just the two of us, Adachi was willing to drop her guard and let me in. But the second anyone else tried to join us—even Hino or Nagafuji—her heart went on lockdown, hidden away behind an invisible force field. Emotion-wise, she was a total shut-in, and the only thing that drew her out of her shell was…me , apparently. Why did she trust me so much? It was a total mystery.

At this point, it literally felt as if Adachi was my sister. After all, my actual little sister was every bit as shy, except when she was with family. Or, who knew, maybe that was just my own preconceptions at work.

Either way, all this thinking made me a tiny bit curious, so I said, “Why did you ask about my sign, anyway? Are you into astrology or something?”

“Huh? Oh…uhhhh…” Adachi fell silent and averted her eyes.

I understood her asking about my birthday, but my zodiac sign? What good was that information? Did she want to check my horoscope or something?

That made me think back to the horoscope show from last night. Did she watch it too? No, that can’t be it . Why on earth would anyone care about someone else’s horoscope?

Then Nagafuji started babbling nonsense, and the next thing I knew, Adachi was back at her desk. End of conversation. All that remained was her distant gaze.

“Hmmm…”

After all that, I still didn’t know what my star sign was.

***

It happened right after I got home from school and changed out of my uniform.

“Go pick up something from the butcher shop for dinner. You’re friends with their daughter, right?”

“What does our friendship have to do with anything?”

“Well, she might give you a discount, right?” my mother insisted, nudging my shoulder. Unlike her, I knew better than to expect any perks from a ditz like Nagafuji. Oh, well.

So, I was forced out of the house. I say “forced” because I knew if I didn’t go, we wouldn’t have food on the table tonight. That was what set the fateful chain of events into motion.

As I stepped outside with the bike key in hand, I promptly spotted my kid sister walking down the street on her way back from school. I waved at her; she noticed me taking the bike out from the garage and ran right up to me.

“I’m back!”

“Welcome home.”

She sniffled, her nose and cheeks flushed bright red like Anpanman’s. Then she held her arms straight out to block my path. “Are you leaving? Where are you going?”

“To buy dinner from the butcher shop. You wanna go instead?”

“No, that’s okay. Come home soon!”

With that, she walked straight past me and into the house. Part of me wished she hadn’t inherited my contempt for anything that required effort… Then again, I didn’t actually want her to go in my place, since there wasn’t much daylight left.

For a moment, I debated whether to go back inside and put on another coat. I was already straddling the bike by that point, so I decided not to bother. I zipped down the road, past all the elementary and junior high schoolers, and headed for Nagafuji’s Meats.

The bike made traveling a breeze, and I arrived in no time flat. When I walked in, Mr. Nagafuji stood at the counter, serving another customer. Naturally, he recognized me. “Hey there!” he called. I smiled politely.

The customer at the counter turned back to look at me, her ash-brown hair swaying with her motions. She was about half a head taller than me, with cartilage piercings peeking out from under her long, soft curls. She was sloppily dressed in another school’s uniform. A beat later, she turned back to the counter, and I positioned myself diagonally behind her to wait my turn.

Was she running an errand for her family, like I was? I wasn’t expecting to see another teenage girl here. As I bent down and trailed my finger over the display window, pondering what to buy, the other girl suddenly whirled around to look at me, her eyes wide. This caught me off guard, and I flinched. What? What do you want from me?

“Shima-chan?” she asked incredulously.

That was my name, all right—and a rather affectionate nickname at that.

My sight went blurry, and my brain numbed as it struggled to process the situation. The only people who ever called me “Shima-chan” were friends from elementary school. Mentally, I compared the person in front of me to the roster of kids from my past.

Oh! “Tarumi?!”

“That’s me.” She grinned, pleased. Evidently, my guess was right on the money.

Back in elementary school, Tarumi was my best friend. To think I’d reunite with her here , in a butcher shop of all places… Not very chic, but okay.

Once I put in my order, I turned back to Tarumi. Never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed it was her. Then again, I’d heard rumors that she’d turned into a total delinquent. Maybe it was true.

“Shima-chan—wait, are we too old for nicknames now?” Tarumi asked. “Eh…probably not, right? Nicknames it is.”

Seriously? You’re going to call me by my grade-school nickname?

“Or would it be too weird…?” she asked after a pause.

Honestly, her lack of confidence was super relatable. I for one was glad to see that she wasn’t the hard-ass rebel all the rumors made her out to be. I could rest easy knowing that she wasn’t about to mug me.

“Okay, whatever,” she said. “You don’t mind if I call you Shima-chan, right?”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

This girl standing in front of me still didn’t fully match the Tarumi from my memories. It had only been three years since I last saw her—how could one person have changed so drastically? Now she looked nothing like she used to.

She stared at me intently, our faces just an arm’s length apart. It felt as though she saw straight through me, and I nearly took a step back purely on reflex.

“You’ve gotten really pretty, huh, Shima-chan?”

“Uhh…I wouldn’t know.”

What was I supposed to say to that? “Yeah, totally”? I’d sound like a complete narcissist.

“Here you go!” Mr. Nagafuji called as he brought Tarumi’s order to the counter. She took her meat parcel, nodded to him, then glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. Her considerable height advantage made her a bit intimidating.

“Well, see you around.” With a lazy wave, she bid me farewell.

“Oh… Yeah, see you,” I replied a beat later, raising my hand slightly in a tiny wave, like the faintest rustle of a leaf.

Staring down at my hand, I gingerly flexed my fingers and contemplated what, specifically, had given me pause. “Am I really going to see her again?”

Would fate be that generous?

Just then, Tarumi walked back into the store. Idly, I wondered if she’d left her wallet by mistake…or maybe she came back to order something else. Then she walked right up to me. Evidently, she had something more to say.

“Can I get your phone number while I’m at it?” she asked, playing with her hair.

That wasn’t something I expected her to ask me. “Oh, uh, sure. But, wait… I didn’t bring my phone.”

“Okay, then.”

Tarumi opened her bookbag and took out a pen and paper. Her notebook was so pristine and unmarked, it may as well have been brand new. She carefully tore out a small section from one page, then scrawled something onto it and handed it to me.

“Here’s my number.”

“Okay.” Oddly enough, I found I was impressed that she had her own phone number memorized; I sure didn’t.

“Call me when you get home.”

“Will do,” I nodded, pocketing the scrap of paper. Meanwhile, Tarumi hastily packed away her pen and notebook.

“Okay then…uhhh…yeah, see you around,” she repeated, more awkwardly this time. Once again, she seemed convinced that there would be a next time.

“Hmmm…”

As I hesitated, Mr. Nagafuji walked back to the counter. “Order up!” he called as he handed me my items wrapped in butcher paper. As I took them, I spotted someone staring at me from the back of the store.

“Oh, now you notice,” she said. “It’s freezing, you know.”

I squinted and realized it was Nagafuji, peering out from the back with half her body concealed behind a wall. She sidled along until she reached the front counter, where her father gave her a stern look that visibly said, “Go back to wherever you came from.”

“I saw the whole thing,” Nagafuji announced.

Yeah? You sure about that? Because I notice you’re not wearing your glasses.

“Did you have fun spying on me?”

“Not really.”

Didn’t think so. This had just been a chance re-encounter, anyway. “Tarumi—that girl just now—does she come here often?”

“I hardly ever work the front counter, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, because you’re an active liability to the business,” Mr. Nagafuji snorted.

She stared at him for a moment, then calmly turned back to me. Idly, I wondered if anything ever actually got under Nagafuji’s skin.

“Is Hino back there, too?”

“Curled up under the kotatsu .”

“Lucky her.”

“Wanna come in for a bit?”

“Nah, I can’t. I’ve got people waiting on me back home.” Plus, I needed to somehow get this food back to my house without it going cold—in the middle of winter.

“Well, thanks for your business! See you tomorrow!” Nagafuji replied, possibly to spite her father’s less-than-optimal evaluation of her work ethic.

With that, it was time for me to head home.

I paused briefly to glance in the direction Tarumi had vanished. Then, once I checked to make sure the scrap of paper with her phone number was tucked safely away, I started pedaling—slowly at first, then steadily faster and faster.

“That was a surprise,” I muttered quietly, my breath leaving my lips in a white fog. But once I heard the statement out loud, I questioned whether I actually meant it. “Or maybe it wasn’t.”

With every word, I felt more cold air enter my body, freezing my heart from the inside out. I pressed my lips together to shut out the draft.

Night had fallen, and since it was the middle of winter, the only sound was my bike wheels spinning. No chirping crickets. Nothing to break the perfect silence.

As I ramped up my speed, I thought back to our final words to each other: see you . Would Tarumi and I actually see each other again? Did we want to? Maybe back then we had a reason to be friends, but what about now? Could we go from being “old friends” to just “friends again”?

Still, I had to admit, I liked the idea a lot more than the permanence of a final farewell.

***

When I got home, I took out my phone to call Tarumi and noticed that I had a new email in my inbox. Sender: Adachi.

“Do you like white chocolate?”

“Hmm…” I imagined the taste on my tongue. “‘It’s pretty good. ’ Send.”

With that out of the way, I proceeded to call Tarumi, just as promised. She answered immediately.

“Hello? Shima-chan?”

“Yep, it’s me. Shima-chan.” As it turned out, the cringey nickname was a lot more bearable over the phone. On the other end of the line, I heard the faint murmur of people in the background. “Are you still out and about?”

“Yeah, I’m at the grocery store now.”

“The grocery store?” I asked. It was a rather wholesome destination for a so-called delinquent. Or maybe “wholesome” wasn’t the right word. “Healthy,” I guess?

“Yeah, I’m grabbing some stuff. Say, would you wanna hang out sometime?”

This invitation was fairly sudden, all things considered. But she was an old friend, so I was willing to make concessions.

“Sure, sometime in the future.”

“Yeah, that works. Just sometime,” she replied, almost as if she was trying to convince herself more than me, and I didn’t really know what to say to that. Before I thought of anything, she continued, “There’s something I forgot I wanted to say earlier.”

“What’s up?”

I heard her take a deep breath, and then—“I’m really happy I got to see you again.”

My sight blurred and unfocused as my mind reeled.

“That’s all,” she added quietly. With that, she hung up.

“That’s all?” I repeated into the dial tone, but obviously it was too late. Tarumi was gone, and I didn’t have the answer, either.

I set my phone down, folded my arms, and noticed that my cheeks were burning. Speaking as a teenage girl, that kind of honest sentimentality was enough to make me blush.

“It made her happy, huh?”

Evidently, Tarumi was ready to ditch the “old” part of “old friends.” But personally, I felt it was a little too soon. A little too…easy . Enough to give me pause.

Was friendship supposed to work like this? Or was our bond always that strong, and I just never realized? No, that can’t be it. I’d been there. Surely I would’ve noticed.

“Hmmm…well…”

To be fair, hearing someone say “I’m happy to see you” was…you know…not the worst thing in the world.

In fact, it was actually…pretty okay.

~Friday, February 7~

At lunch, I noticed that Adachi had actually brought something from home for a change. Originally, I thought maybe she’d packed a sandwich. At that point, I figured we could eat together, so I headed over to her. She sat at her desk, chewing silently as she stared downward. At first, she didn’t notice me, so I walked between her and the desk in front of hers.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed.

At that, Adachi finally looked up.

Spread out on her desk was a cascade of store-bought chocolate of all different brands, spilling out of a plastic to-go bag. No sandwich or anything. Just chocolate.

“Himamurhh?” she asked, her mouth full. Then, a split second later, she snapped back to her senses and stuffed all the chocolate back into the bag. Admittedly, my reaction to her lunch was a little scandalized, but surely she didn’t need to hide it.

That said, I hadn’t realized she was such a chocoholic. For that matter, what was going on with her hair? Pony alert! Open the stables!

“Oh, I get it. You used too much brainpower during class, so now you’re filling up on sugar?”

“Uh…yeah…something like that,” Adachi replied instantly—so fast, I wasn’t sure she’d actually listened to a word I said. As she rested her chin in her hands, I noticed a bottle of mineral water on her desk. This came as a relief. Now, that’s the Adachi I know.

This ponytail look, however, was an Adachi I didn’t know. As her head swayed from side to side, so too did her hair, attracting—no, demanding —my attention. Naturally, it worked. How could I not notice when it kept bouncing around in my line of sight during class?

So, what had made her change her hairstyle? Was she trying to reinvent herself? Her exposed ears trembled slightly.

“You know, I heard that excessive chocolate consumption can give you a nosebleed,” I commented casually. “Not sure if it’s actually true, though.”

Reflexively, she reached up and touched her nose. Then she wiped it with her sleeve, and once she confirmed that she wasn’t bleeding, she looked back at me. I wasn’t sure what she was expecting. After a moment of extended eye contact, she averted her gaze and started to unwrap another chocolate bar. Whew .

As I watched her break off each piece of chocolate one by one and pop them into her mouth, it made me want a taste. “Gimme a piece.”

She handed me the whole thing. I accepted it, then flipped it over and compared its calorie count with that of my croquette sandwich. I knew I shouldn’t have bought this thing . The numbers were in the triple digits. I started to sweat.

Meanwhile, Adachi carried on eating her chocolate like she’d never even heard of calories. As I glanced around at the various wrappers, I realized what they had in common: they were all milk chocolate.

Milk chocolate… Feels like we had a conversation about that recently.

Could Adachi’s new all-chocolate diet possibly be my fault? Was the ponytail a symbol of her determination to commit to this lifestyle choice? If so, I really wasn’t sure what to tell her, other than, Chill. You’re acting like the main character in a shoujo manga.

Meanwhile, she continued to eat her chocolate in silence, occasionally stopping to shake her head or manually adjust her ponytail’s position—in other words, she was restless from the neck up. Did she want me to comment on the hairstyle or something? Personally, I didn’t have much of an opinion either way, so I hoped to avoid a conversation about her fidgeting. Oh well.

Once I finished eating my chocolate bar, I rose to my feet, reached out with one hand, and lightly clasped the tip of her ponytail. “This is cute,” I offered, feeling guilty that I didn’t have anything more creative to say.

She turned to look at me and froze. “Huh?”

I thought back to her usual hairstyle and added, “But, then again, your hair’s always cute.”

There was something soothing about the familiar, as opposed to the new. Actually, now that I think about it, what am I going to do with MY hair? I picked at my bangs and contemplated this decision. Adachi started to say something, but the words wouldn’t come—she simply opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. Her forehead and ears were bright red. Was she drunk or something?

“What’s wrong?”

The instant I asked, Adachi leapt to her feet and dashed out of the classroom like a bat out of hell.

“Hey, wait! The bell’s—!”

—going to ring soon… Plus, you left your chocolate all over your desk.

When she finally returned, the look on her face suggested that she was dead inside, so I kept an eye on her during our next class. I could tell just from looking at the back of her head that her mind was elsewhere. Fortunately, she showed no sign of developing a nosebleed.

Either that was just an old wives’ tale, or she simply hadn’t consumed all that much chocolate.

~Saturday, February 8 ~

I heard some sort of commotion outside my room, so I wandered to the living room to investigate. There, I found that Yashiro had come over to play with my sister. The two of them were goofing off, roughhousing and running circles around each other; each movement kicked up blue sparkles like technicolor dust.

Meanwhile, my mother watched them from the hallway. “That’s some wild hair,” she commented under her breath before disappearing back into the kitchen. Really, Mom? That’s all you have to say?

“I’m bored,” Yashiro announced.

“Me too,” my sister agreed.

To me, it seemed like they were having fun—they lay in a heap on the floor in a perfect X-shape. I didn’t want to interrupt their playtime, but before I could sneak away, Yashiro spotted me.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Shimamura-san. Well, well, well.”

Yes, yes, I heard you the first time.

She wriggled out from under my sister and came slithering in my direction like a snake. In place of her space suit, she wore a green sweater and jeans. However, the look was a bit too tomboyish for her, and she didn’t pull it off well. If anything, it felt like she was trying to imitate someone else’s style. In a way, the sweater and jeans were more “alien” than the space suit ever was.

“Let’s go see a movie,” she suggested.

“What—”

“—a good idea!” my sister finished for me as she crawled over to us on her hands and knees.

“You see, I wish to observe this ‘movie’ phenomenon.”

“I wanna go, too!” my sister volunteered, raising her hand gleefully.

They were already excited about this prospect, but I had yet to agree to it. I paused to think for a moment, gazing out the window. How can it still be so cold when the sun’s out? Ugh, I have a runny nose again.

“Feel free to go by yourselves,” I said. “Believe it or not, I’ve got a lot of studying to—”

“Just go with them,” my mother called as she passed the door, like an extra in the background. “And feed them lunch while you’re at it.”

“Oh, I get it. You just don’t want to have to cook,” I replied.

“You better believe it,” she shot back. With that, she disappeared again, carrying a bag of Mochikichi fried rice crackers—probably planning to get back in bed and watch TV. Incidentally, that was also my plan.

Meanwhile, Yashiro hopped to her feet and attempted to drag me off. “Now then, let’s be going, Shimamura-san!”

“Don’t pull on my clothes, you moron! Are you trying to strip them off?!”

I put a hand to her forehead and pushed her away. I was willing to pay for one little mooch, but certainly not two.

I know you love animals, sis, but please stop bringing this creature into our home.

“Fiiiine…I’ll go with you,” I said. “Just give me a minute so I can get dressed.”

“Shall I assist you?”

“Absolutely not, thanks!”

Once I successfully peeled Yashiro off, I returned to my room. I’d spent the whole morning lying in bed, so I still wore my pajamas; that was how I normally spent each winter. As I folded up my futon, I silently cursed myself for ever deciding to leave the room.

After I got dressed, I took the two to the local shopping mall—the same one I visited with Adachi the other day. Out here in the sticks, there weren’t exactly a lot of options to choose from. Sure, we could make the trek to the theater downtown, but with half the shops closed, we’d have a hell of a time trying to find a place to eat.

Yashiro took my hand (well, more accurately, my fingers) and squeezed tight, looking pleased as punch as she pulled me along.

“Hmmm…”

Why did everyone want so badly to hold hands with me? Did it make them feel secure? Or were they afraid I might fade away entirely unless they kept me tethered to something?

As we walked, I felt my sister’s gaze on my free hand, so I held it out to her. “Do you want to hold hands too?”

“Pssh! I’m not a little baby!” She turned away from me sulkily.

In the past she’d held hands with me anytime we were in public, but okay. I retracted my hand, and we kept walking.

“Put your hand out again,” she demanded after a moment.

She was being a brat, so I pinched her cheek while I was at it. This time she reached out and put her hand in mine; after a beat, I tapped the back of her hand with my index finger.

“What?!” she snapped.

“Nothing,” I grinned, ignoring her little red face.

Now I had both hands full; hopefully Adachi wouldn’t show up, or else I’d have to grow a third arm. Then again, knowing her, if she witnessed me in this position, her reaction would probably be a little more…you know…on the weird side.

“Now we just need Little to hold my other hand,” Yashiro suggested, reaching across me toward my sister.

“What, so we can spin around in a circle? Not happening.”

Pulling her arm, I made Yashiro face forward. When had she gotten to be such good buddies with my sister, anyway?

The movie theater was on the second floor. On our way to the escalator, I smelled a sugary fragrance wafting from somewhere; I turned back to our smiling alien. “So, is there any particular movie you want to see?” I asked, knowing it was entirely possible that she hadn’t thought that far at all.

She froze, eyes wide, like I’d grown a second head. “I thought we were…going to see it?”

“I mean, there’s more than one movie in the world. You have to…pick one…” My voice faltered as I realized she wasn’t going to understand.

Yashiro’s eyes darted all over the place until, finally, she looked back at me with a smug smirk. “Ah, I see. So, there are different breeds of movie! Another mystery solved, all thanks to me. Heh heh heh…”

“Riiiight…”

She didn’t seem to be putting on an act, either. Maybe she really was just that ignorant. Geez, girl. You are one of many, many things beyond the scope of my mortal understanding.

“Well, well, if it isn’t a young mother hen and her two chicks!” someone within earshot commented.

You’ve sure got me pegged, I thought as I turned in their direction.

It was Hino—or perhaps I should say, I realized belatedly that it was Hino, because at first I honestly wasn’t sure. If it wasn’t for her sunburn, I might never have put two and two together.

She stood on the escalator, staring down at us; her hairstyle was the same as usual, but her clothes were very different. By that, I mean she was decked out in a kimono. Not a cheap yukata, either—a traditional layered red kimono. After I recovered from slack-jawed shock, I remembered hearing that she wore formal Japanese attire whenever she was at home. I didn’t know the details behind it or anything—just that she was allegedly from that type of traditional family. The type that serves chickpeas and kelp to children as a snack.

“Is that you, Hino-san?” asked Yashiro.

“Is she your friend, Neechan?” asked my sister.

“Yes and yes!” Hino replied, with a double thumbs-up.

Given her short stature, dark tan, and ostentatious getup, I couldn’t help but think of Girls’ Day, Shichi-Go-San, and all those other traditional Japanese holidays. Hino stuck out like a sore thumb, as if she was a cosplayer outside a convention center. As much as she liked to claim she was a magnet for weirdos, today she was the weirdo.

“Hold on a sec!”

She turned and came back down the up escalator—an act so dangerous, not even a child would dare try it—until she reached the ground floor. Dang, she’s gutsy. I could never do that. Well, maybe I could try going up a down escalator.

“Wait, is this your little sister? Have we met before, kiddo?” Hino asked as she smoothed her kimono.

Good question. Have they?

“I don’t…think so…?” my sister replied as she retreated behind me. Not a big fan of strangers, that one.

“I can’t remember, either. Oh well! Now we have. As for you, Miss Alien, you don’t look very alien today,” Hino continued, commenting on Yashiro’s choice of outfit.

Not sure space suits are very “alien,” either.

“Keh heh heh! This is my undercover disguise,” Yashiro explained proudly. Too bad her “cover” was entirely blown by her…you know…bright-blue hair. In fact, she and Hino were both so disproportionately conspicuous, they made me and my sister look somehow “out of place” for wearing normal clothes.

“So, are you having a fun little family outing with your two charges?”

“Kind of. This one’s not family, though,” I replied, ruffling Yashiro’s hair. She flailed and jumped away, scattering sparkles everywhere. “What about you?”

Hino followed my gaze to her kimono and pinched a bit of fabric. “Oh, I just didn’t want to have to change back into this thing when I got home, so I kept it on. Too much effort, y’know?”

In my opinion, it would take more effort just to walk around in all that, since you’d have to try not to step on the hem or get the sleeves dirty. To be fair, Hino looked as if she had it under control, but still. Definitely not loungewear. And another thing—had she biked here in that? Riding a bike in a kimono was a guaranteed recipe for disaster. What if the fabric caught in the wheels and you fell over?

“Are you running errands, then?” I asked.

“Nah, I just wanted to pick up some manga.”

Oh, okay, so she’s headed to the second-floor bookstore on the far side of the mall. “ Where’s Nagafuji?”

“We may hang out a lot, but not on weekends,” Hino laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “She’s got club activities or whatever.”

“Right… Club activities…” I started to offer some vague platitude, like “She sure is working hard,” but I choked it back down. “What club is she in, anyway?”

“No clue,” Hino replied without batting a lash. I was surprised to discover that there were things about Nagafuji that Hino didn’t know.

I paused to imagine Nagafuji attending her club. Given her love of boomerangs, I could see her in some kind of boomerang-throwing club. Couldn’t imagine anyone else joining it, but hey.

“What I want to know is, why do you always ask me about Nagafuji whenever you see me, dear Shimmer?”

“Shimmer?”

“That’s your name.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yep!”

This conversation wasn’t making any sense to me. Probably because neither of us were actually using our brains.

“Well, all right then!” Hino declared, evidently growing bored of the gag. She was always the self-proclaimed “normal one,” and I wasn’t about to rain on her parade…but she could be so very odd at times.

Granted, everyone had the right to their own personal values. When this concept was taken to its logical extreme, though, didn’t that mean it was pointless to try at all to be considerate of other people? After all, you didn’t really need to try. After enough time in the other person’s company, you were bound to find at least one thing in common. Perhaps that coincidental congruence was the real reward of human connection.

“Anyway, Shimamura, where are you three headed now? The sauna?” Hino asked after she followed us onto the up escalator. I noticed that she’d immediately dropped the “Shimmer” thing.

“We are here to see a movie!” Yashiro answered, standing tall and proud for some inexplicable reason. It’s not that impressive, you know.

“Oh ho! A movie, eh? I, too, like to see a movie every now and then.” Hino carefully adjusted her posture. Whereas she’d been standing around aimlessly before, now she appeared to have a purpose in mind.

“Are you coming with us?” I asked.

“A movie does sound pretty great right about now.”

“What about your manga, though?”

“Oh, I don’t read that stuff. I’m a bookworm—I prefer novels.”

Says the girl who literally read a fishing manga just the other day. Still, in her long red kimono, Hino did have a sort of “novelist” vibe going on—you know, from the 1800s or something.

By the time we arrived at the second floor, my skin had adjusted to the temperature change, and now my sister’s hand was uncomfortably warm. Not Yashiro’s, though—hers still felt nice and cool. It was almost like I could physically feel her aqua-blue aesthetic.

“Uh-oh, Shimamura! It appears you’ll need a third hand so that you can hold mine,” Hino joked, smirking, as we walked.

Yeah, sure, I’ll just grow one for you. “You want to hold hands?”

“Oh, no, not at all.”

“You can hold mine,” Yashiro offered.

How very…considerate? I guess?

“Why, your kindness warms my heart!” Hino exclaimed as she accepted. Then, three steps later, she let go again. “Meh, I’d rather walk at my own pace.”

Classic Hino. That was the sort of attitude Adachi used to have. When had that changed?

Meanwhile, my sister used me as a protective shield as she shot furtive glances at Hino—probably fascinated by her unusual attire. Then Hino noticed her peering and walked around me to get a look at her.

My sister started to hide, but stopped. Instead, she peered up timidly at Hino and asked point-blank, “Are you a princess?”

“Heh heh heh! Do I look like a princess? I suppose I do,” Hino smirked, waving her long sleeves around.

“Trust me, it’s just the clothes,” I snarked, rolling my eyes.

Her gaze panned from right to left. “You know, I had a dream that I was a princess.”

“What kind of dream?”

“Mmm…I don’t remember much, but in the end, I turned into a fungus,” Hino explained, as wistfully as if it had happened in real life. The dream’s details were so scarce, however, that I couldn’t see how this had anything to do with princesses at all.

“Was it a nightmare, or…?”

“Eh, I woke up afterward, so probably not.”

That was a rather generous evaluation. Most people would’ve rated a dream based on content, but apparently all Hino cared about was whether it ended.

“By the way, Hino-san, why are you grilled?” Yashiro asked, peering curiously at Hino’s tanned skin from up close. She meant “sunburnt,” but… Eh, close enough, I guess. Kind of. Hino’s skin was certainly well-browned, I suppose.

“Oh, it happened when I reentered the Earth’s atmosphere,” Hino lied.

Whoa there, buddy. You need to pick your audience for jokes like that.

“Hah! You Earthlings are such amateurs!” Yashiro scoffed smugly.

See, what’d I tell you? I knew she’d believe you. “Just so you know, she’s joking ,” I warned my sister.

She scowled and pouted sulkily. “I know that. I’m not stupid.”

I know you’re not stupid, but at the same time, you still believe in Santa Claus …so I can never be too careful.

“All right then, let’s show this alien what Earthlings can really do. Prepare to have your mind blown!” Hino declared, smirking, as if she’d made any movies herself. Reminds me of the fable about the donkey in the lion’s skin… Okay, maybe not.

We passed the 300-yen store, then the shoe store, then finally arrived at our destination. Out front, a big red sign read “So-and-So Cinema” in English for some reason. Inside, the lobby was dim and decked out in blue from top to bottom. I’d passed this place countless times, but believe it or not, this was my first time actually setting foot inside.

Naturally, the kiddos couldn’t read the English sign, so their only reaction was “Whoaaaa!” I glanced around the interior—not too much, though, just casually. Apparently, this theater had twelve screens total.

“Do you know about threed, Little?” Yashiro whispered to my sister.

Threed? Like for fabric? Wait, no. The hell is threed? And what kind of nickname is “Little”? Don’t you know what my sister’s name is by now?

“No.”

“It makes the stuff in the movie pop out, like, ‘Zoom! Pow! ’”

I realized Yashiro meant “3D.” Was that why she wanted to see a movie? I saw her glancing furtively at the snack counter, but chose to ignore it.

Not only was the theater showing the latest releases, but with Valentine’s Day right around the corner, they also had some old romance classics on the marquee. Hino gazed at the timetable for a moment.

“Oh, that’s right!” She lit up suddenly. “I should buy chocolate on my way home.”

At first, I wondered who it was for. Then I realized I didn’t need to wonder. “For Nagafuji?”

“Yeah, but it’s not really a gift. I’m just gonna buy some as a snack and share it with her. Same thing we do every year,” Hino explained, waving both hands dismissively.

This yearly ritual piqued my interest. “Oh yeah? Why’s that? Is it just tradition?”

“Because she likes chocolate, so it makes her happy?” Hino tilted her head slightly, as if she hadn’t thought about it until now.

Her answer was immediate, with no hesitation—but not in a flippant sort of way. More like it was a gut reaction, casual and unpretentious. Point being, it was nothing like the awkward tension that hovered between me and Adachi.

“Is that all that matters?” I asked.

“No, of course not,” Hino shrugged, but my mind’s gears were already turning. Perhaps Adachi and I had gotten too bogged down in the formality of it all.

“Well, either way, this isn’t the place to be having this conversation,” I said.

“Why’s that?”

Because little ants will smell sugar and come running.

“I heard ‘chocolate’!”

Told you so.

Yashiro beamed up at Hino; Hino reached down, grabbed her head with both hands, and—“Zzzt!”—gently redirected her to me. “Have this nice lady buy you some.”

But I already gave her some!

“Shimamura-saaaan!”

“No begging!”

Yashiro tried to cling to me, but I pushed her away headfirst. In response, she pushed her face against my hand. Little weirdo.

A few minutes later, I gave in to the pleading and bought caramel corn from the snack counter. Apparently, Yashiro didn’t actually care if it was chocolate as long as it was sweet. While I was at it, I bought some for my sister, too. I’m such a doormat.

“All right, now listen up. You have to be quiet and watch the movie, okay? No shouting,” I explained as we took our seats in the theater before the show started.

Yashiro, however, was already engrossed in her popcorn. “Yeah, yeah,” she replied offhandedly.

As I looked at her hands, I thought of another thing to warn her about. “And no clapping, either.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“No, you need to take this seriously!” Hino of all people chimed in. Passionately.

“Ish fine, I won’d clab,” Yashiro replied through a mouthful of popcorn. The problem was, I couldn’t even trust her to follow the laws of gravity , much less society. My sister would probably be fine, though. I didn’t want to nag needlessly and piss her off again, so I decided to have a little faith in her.

The movie we chose was set in space and, as Yashiro requested, 3D. It wasn’t a horror movie, but it may as well have been; it was so gripping, I could scarcely breathe. It’s hard to explain, but…it made me grateful for my body’s physical weight in a way I normally never was.

After the movie ended, and we all walked out of the theater, Hino stopped and stared at me intensely—specifically, at my hands, which were once again joined with Yashiro’s and my sister’s.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re a lot more sisterly than I thought.”

“More than you, I guess,” I replied with a shrug, lifting the kids’ hands up.

Confused, Yashiro raised her other hand enthusiastically; in contrast, my sister grimaced bashfully.

“Don’t you have siblings?” I asked Hino. “I forget.”

“I have four older brothers, but some of them are a lot older than me and don’t live at home anymore. So, we never talk.”

It seemed like kind of a lazy excuse, so I figured she probably just didn’t want to go into detail about them. Hino’s family situation was just so…complicated. Or at least, it seemed that way. Not that I was ever actually going to find out.

“Anyway, all that stuff aside…this was a real treat!” she declared, putting one hand on her hip. Her smirk seemed to ask for my agreement, so I grinned and shrugged.

After that, Hino treated us all to lunch, something I appreciated greatly. Not in the financial sense—it was just a really sweet gesture.

All in all, it was a pretty okay day.

~Sunday, February 9~

After hours spent lying around in bed, I noticed that I hadn’t heard any screaming, so evidently there were no visitors today. Not that I minded the occasional lively guest, but it was exhausting to deal with day after day. I needed a lazy Sunday like this one to recover all the energy I expended.

Considering that I’d spent my morning reading a textbook, of all things, I was practically an honor student. My parents would be so impressed…you know, if they conveniently forgot about all the school I’d skipped before now.

In just two more months, I was going to be a second-year. That was the deadline before which I needed to catch up to the rest of my peers. I’d finally gained some ground over winter break, and with finals coming up, I couldn’t afford to slow my pace. But the harder I pushed myself, the more I started to miss the gym loft.

As the winter melted away, and the first few rays of spring crept over the horizon, that loft would warm up once more…but would we ever go back there?

“Nahhh…probably not.”

Given my studious behavior lately, I was pretty sure I’d chosen to leave the delinquent life behind. If I wanted to hang out with Adachi, there were plenty of better places to do it. Even if we decided to play ping-pong specifically, we had other options. There was no need to commit to one place in particular. That’s why I wanted her to graduate to the next grade with me.

My cell phone started to ring from somewhere in my room. I rummaged for it amid my desk clutter, but couldn’t find it. It only rang the one time, so it was probably just an email—but now that I’d lost my phone, I was compelled to keep looking. After I checked every conceivable spot, I stopped to think. When was the last time I remembered having it? I hadn’t played with it all weekend, so maybe it was still in my bookbag. I looked, and sure enough, it was in the exact same spot I’d left it on Friday.

Pretty sad that I went the whole weekend without receiving any messages. Some social life I must have. I checked the email’s sender, and unsurprisingly—though there had been one other possibility—it was Adachi. (The other possibility was that it was spam from my cell-phone provider.)

The email had no body text—just an image attachment. Curious, I opened it and saw…

“Chocolate…?”

Brown sludge, melted and poured into metal molds.

“Huh.”

Yep, that’s chocolate, all right. So…what about it? With no further details, I didn’t understand what exactly I was looking at.

Then another email arrived in my inbox—again from Adachi, again with an image attachment. And again, the image was of chocolate. She still hadn’t sent a single word of explanation; if anything, I now had more questions. Was this her idea of a Valentine’s Day gift? To save money or something? No, couldn’t be .

I contemplated calling her to ask about it. On the other hand, it felt like that was what she wanted me to do, and I refused to give in. Meanwhile, another chocolate photo arrived, this one taken at a different angle. Was this some new form of bullying?

Spare me the inkblot test, okay? I’m not that smart to begin with. If only I could’ve seen Adachi’s face right now. Maybe then I’d figure it out.

Her final email contained a message. “What do you think?”

Good question.

I got the distinct sense that I was going to have to put a lot of effort in if I wanted to escape Adachi’s labyrinth. For a while, I ran up and down her illusory stairways and twisted purple hallways…but the further I ran, the fuzzier my mind became.

“Ugh.”

Too much effort.

~Monday, February 10~

“Oh, hey, it’s Shima-chan!” someone called as I was on my way to school. Confused, I turned around, but couldn’t immediately pinpoint who it was. I knew it couldn’t be someone from my class, since she was running in the opposite direction. Rubbing my sleepy, Monday- morning eyes, I scrutinized her appearance. She looked as though she was the same age as me.

Oh, okay. I think I’ve got it.

“Hey, long time no see!”

She was one of my old friends from elementary school. Her name was…uhh… It was… Oh no, I have no clue what her name is. Panicking internally, I decided that my only option was to keep smiling.

Fortunately, my old friend didn’t suspect a thing. She grinned and wheeled her bike back in my direction. Her hairstyle and clothing had changed completely from elementary—not to mention, she never used to wear makeup—so, appearance-wise, she was basically a completely different person. Weird how I somehow recognized her anyway.

“Whoa, your hair’s a lot lighter these days!”

“Well, you know how it is. I’m getting on in years!” I joked, laughing amiably as I gave her a playful shove on the shoulder. “C’mon, don’t make me sound like I’m eighty.”

“It doesn’t really suit you, huh?”

Her blunt comment hit me point-blank, as if someone had dumped a bucket of paint over my head. It doesn’t? I picked up a bleached strand and stared at it. Everyone seemed to share that opinion—even my own family—so maybe it would be best if I dyed it back to brown after all.

But if I did that, well…I’d have the same hair color as Adachi, you know? Then we wouldn’t complement each other like we did now, and… Wait, what am I thinking? Complement each other? From whose perspective? I’m not that far gone, am I?

“So tell me, Shima-chan, are you still in touch with anyone?”

“Ummm…not really…”

“Gotcha. That makes sense.”

Makes sense how? It felt as though she was just saying things at random to keep the conversation going; I forced a smile. No matter how good an actress I was on the outside, however, I always felt uncomfortable talking to people from my past.

Maybe this conversation would’ve soared like a bird back in the day, but now it landed like a wet frog on pavement. They say persistence is key in many things, and as it turned out, relationships were one of those things. Without regular upkeep, a friendship could easily run dry.

“Oh yeah, so do you remember that one girl, Tarumi?”

“Tarumi? Yeah, totally,” I replied vaguely. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I’d bumped into her just the other day.

“I saw her a couple weekends ago at the train station. She’s soooo tall now!”

“Oh yeah? That’s cool.”

Come to think of it, Tarumi was pretty tall. And she had long legs. Personally, I was jealous on both accounts.

There was a long silence, as if she interpreted my response as uninterested. Then, to escape the awkwardness, we both waved goodbye, rescued by our teenage obligation to go to school.

“See you!”

“Later!”

And so, we parted ways. Neither of us said the word “goodbye,” yet I sensed that we would probably never see each other again. She’d only stopped me on the street because my presence was a rarity. If by some chance we ended up spotting each other every morning after this, we’d lose any reason we had to say hi. That was the sense I got, at least.

That was how “old friends” worked. Where once our clocks were perfectly in sync, now their hands pointed to different times. It would take effort and adjustment to line them up again.

As I passed the graveyard, I gazed at the headstones and spotted the name Tarumi. I traced the letters in the air with my finger—but really, she wasn’t that far beyond my reach. She’d been spotted at both the butcher shop and the train station; surely, she had to live around here somewhere.

What if I met up with her again? How would I feel?

Not that I really planned to go out of my way to hang out with her, but…after a moment of consideration, I decided I wouldn’t mind seeing her.

Truth be told, I could reliably trace the majority of my behavior back to those same three words: I wouldn’t mind . It was the place my heart always settled.

“That’s how it always is with me, I guess.”

Not that anything was wrong with that. Still, part of me hoped that someday I could graduate to “I’d like that” instead.

~Tuesday, February 11~

Someone once said that “humanity’s biggest flaw is our tendency to decline gradually.” It happens slowly, rotting us from the inside out so we don’t notice until it’s too late.

“That’s what I heard, anyway.”

“Interesting…”

As Nagafuji blathered away, I continued to lie sprawled out over the kotatsu table. Meanwhile, Adachi reached another goal. For someone who claimed not to know the game’s rules, she progressed from checkpoint to checkpoint really quickly… Maybe that lack of knowledge kept her laser-focused on one specific objective. Despite her confusion, she seemed in much brighter spirits than usual, so clearly she was happy that she was winning.

As for me, I’d somehow ended up in last place. Oh no . I pushed myself back up into a sitting position. Now was not the time for me to molder in the kotatsu.

That day found us all hanging out at Nagafuji’s house after school. Her family ran a butcher shop, and while I’d purchased food from their store countless times, this was only my second time setting foot in their living space. The smell and crackle of the fryer oil permeated the whole building, and while I enjoyed it, it also kind of made me hungry.

Last time I was here, I’d only stayed for a cup of tea, but today we were playing video games. This solicitation—Wait, am I using that word right? Whatever —basically all started during lunch, when Hino and Nagafuji announced that they wanted to play Momotetsu .

“Meh, let’s just call this a study in geography.”

Hino sat closest to the TV, one knee bent, intently focused on the game. Considering that this was her idea to begin with, it made sense that she was the most invested. Then again, she tended to invest in pretty much any competition, no matter whose idea it was. Conversely, Nagafuji and I both zonked out at the kotatsu , stretching our arms out and flailing our hands, like a couple of dying bugs wiggling their legs with the last of their strength. On second thought, that’s a really gross mental image.

Then it was SHIMAMURA (MANAGER)’s turn, so I rolled the dice without really paying attention.

Because we had to take turns using the controllers in pairs (Adachi and Hino, me and Nagafuji), we naturally had to sit in pairs too. Nagafuji and I essentially took over the kotatsu , though—were the others cold at all? Adachi sat diagonally to my left, and Hino sat diagonally to my right. At first, we had to teach Adachi how to play Momotetsu , but now that we were on our sixth year in-game, she’d pretty much gotten the hang of things. She wasn’t using any of her action cards, but whatever.

“They say only mean people are good at this game, so clearly you must be a saint, Shimamura,” snarked HINO (PRIEST). But…going by that logic would mean that Adachi was a total monster.

Speaking of Adachi, she glanced over her shoulder at me. “I, uh…I think you probably are a saint,” she stammered, her eyes darting in all directions.

“Why, thank you,” I replied offhandedly. Seriously, though, I appreciated her trying to offer me a consolation prize for being in last place. Side note: Adachi’s in-game job title was now CEO. And Nagafuji was…a robot. Yeah.

Every time NAGAFUJI (ROBOT) acquired an action card, she used it on the spot with no thought given to strategy or timing. Fitting, I know. If the card in question allowed her to choose a target, she always chose Hino, and if it succeeded, Nagafuji celebrated like it was her birthday. This robot really needs to chill out.

Honestly, you didn’t need more than two players for this game, so part of me was confused as to why they bothered inviting Adachi and me at all. I mean, sure, I was technically friends with them…but was Adachi? Somehow, I doubted that she felt any sort of kinship toward them at all. If I wasn’t invited, she probably wouldn’t have tagged along. She just wasn’t a “quantity over quality” sort of girl when it came to friends. As for me, I tended to enjoy this sort of thing, so I didn’t really mind hanging out.

After that, I remained in last place for some reason; meanwhile, Adachi oscillated between first and second. Then, in a blink, it was 7 P.M., so we decided to call it a night.

“We’ll finish the game some other time.”

“Unless the console gets reset.”

“Yeah… That’s the scariest part of the cartridge generation.”

Hino and Nagafuji were having some conversation about old game consoles, but personally, I’d never seen one this old until today. From the yellow discoloration, you could tell the console had “grown up” right alongside its owners.

Did we ever have one of those when I was young?

As the years passed, we kept swapping out our old games for newer ones. Now they were probably collecting dust somewhere, along with the rest of my childhood memories. After all, I never could commit to anything for very long.

So, how had I made it this far?

Outside, the chilly night air clamped painfully around my arms and legs. My breath floated out in a pale puff, as if to light up the pitch- darkness.

“Hey, um…want me to…take you home?” Adachi asked suddenly.

It was a kind offer, of course, but we lived in two different directions. “That’s pretty far out of your way… Are you sure?” I asked.

She nodded eagerly, so I decided to take her up on it. Setting my bookbag in her bike cart, I hopped on the back.

Honestly, Hino’s full of shit. Adachi’s way too much of a sweetheart to be mean.

“You know, you’ve really changed a lot since we first met,” I murmured pensively, peering at her face right before we set off. The old Adachi never would’ve tagged along with me for hours. She’d been a lot quieter, and when she did speak, it was only ever a few curt words.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she replied in a tiny, shy voice. Evidently, she agreed with my sentiment.

Not to suggest she had changed for the worse, of course—if anything, she could stand to be a little more confident. On the other hand, she was acting a bit weirder these days. Okay…a lot weirder. But…I guess I didn’t really mind.

At this time of year, the sun set long before 7 P.M. The darkness was different from summer’s; it was deeper, heavier. Out here in the countryside, there were a few sporadic streetlamps, but the street itself stretched ahead of us like a black viper. Nevertheless, with only the occasional pinprick of light to illuminate our path, we forged ahead.

“Did you have fun?” I asked. Then I got a strange sense of déjà vu , like maybe I’d asked her that before.

“Yeah,” Adachi replied, staring straight ahead. Her voice was as dry as the winter wind.

Hmmm. Well, it’s not like I’m her mom. She can make her own decisions, I guess.

“Hey, Shimamura? Don’t forget, uh, in three days…”

I really wish you’d stop looking up at me while you’re steering the bike! This definitely wasn’t her first time doing it, either.

“Chocolate, right? Don’t worry, I won’t forget,” I replied, my smile stiff.

Come to think of it, I still haven’t bought any, have I? I’d rather not have to rush around at the last minute, so I should go buy it tomorrow or the day after. Then all I’ll have to do is give it to her, I guess.

Honestly, I was kind of worried that this wasn’t going to be as fun and exciting as Adachi hoped. After all, she already knew that I was giving her something.

But chocolate was delicious and sweet—and it was precisely the foreknowledge of its taste that enabled my cravings. So maybe, in a way, Adachi had it right: sometimes surprises were overrated.

~Wednesday, February 12~

At my current pace, I figured I was probably going to make it in time for first period. So, when I passed the graveyard, I slowed to a walk. The strong winter wind brushed against my flushed skin, draining it of all the warmth I’d built up running. It had started blustering around midnight last night, and it showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. The whhhsssshhh sound in my ears was deafening. Fun fact: when I was little, I thought that was the sound clouds made when they rubbed against each other.

Maybe I should get a part-time job, like Adachi, so I can save up to buy my own bike, I thought as I caught my breath. After all, the so-called “family bicycle” was practically my mom’s personal bike at this point. I would’ve liked it if she at least let me use it on days when I was running late, but nope. Instead, she insisted that it was my fault for oversleeping in the first place—and she was right. But if you know I’m going to be late, I’d appreciate it if you’d wake me up, you jerk!

Ultimately, I guess she just wanted me to handle everything on my own. Better than her constantly micromanaging me, at least. As a result, I was responsible for leaving late…and everything it led to.

As I passed the little park next to the cemetery, I noticed a conspicuous head of hair fluttering in the breeze like a butterfly, shedding sparkles instead of scales. It was Yashiro, doing calisthenics of all things. Naturally, she was alone, facing the graveyard and cheerfully counting to herself as she did side stretches. Watching her, the only thing that came to mind was, God, she’s so weird.

She hadn’t noticed me yet, so I debated minding my own business and going to school. But I couldn’t very well just leave her here, standing out in public on a weekday morning with no backpack in sight. I knew that first period was going to start soon, but I took a detour into the park regardless.

She spotted me and immediately dashed over. “Well, if it isn’t Shimamura-san!”

How can you wear that sleeveless summer dress in the middle of winter? No leggings or anything. I touched her shoulder curiously; it felt like ice (no surprise there). Yet it was perfectly smooth, without so much as a single goose bump.

“Did you need something?” she asked.

“No, not particularly.” But you probably shouldn’t be out here at this time of day. Not that I have any right to judge. “Don’t you have school today?”

“Ha ha ha! Don’t be silly. I’m a grown adult,” she declared smugly.

“Right.” Experimentally, I grabbed her and lifted her high into the air.

“Wheeee!” she squealed, flailing her limbs.

Grown adult, my ass. “If you start skipping school at your age, you’ll be a delinquent for life.”

Yashiro was even lighter than my sister; I swung her from side to side, shaking free a cascade of blue sparkles that the wind promptly carried off. It was actually kind of fun to track the air currents with the naked eye.

“I am 680 years old, you know.”

“Oh, right, I totally forgot.”

Didn’t realize 680-year-old aliens were all as short and scrawny as my sister. Man, if I had to live that long, I’d probably die of boredom.

I set her down on the ground, and she shot me a look that said, “Is that all?” I mouthed back, “That’s all.”

With a wave, I decided it was time to part ways. “Anyway, I gotta go to school. See ya.”

Admittedly, I wasn’t fully on board with the idea of leaving a young child alone in a park, but I didn’t have the free time to babysit her, either. Yet I could feel something pulling me back.

I stopped near the park entrance and glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, Yashiro was looking at me. I turned around, jogged a few steps, then stopped and glanced back again. Still looking at me.

“Oh, for crying out loud.”

I turned back. Must be those big-sister instincts kicking in, I groaned to myself as I cursed my lack of commitment.

Yashiro greeted my return with a smirk. “It seems this ninja technique is rather convenient.”

“What ‘ninja technique’?”

“The one where I stare at you until you turn back.” She struck a ninja pose.

Total grown adult over here. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but it wasn’t your ninja skills that made it happen. I’m just a super -nice person.”

“Oh, yes, of course! You are a super-nice person!”

I’d meant it as a joke, but then she agreed, and I didn’t really know what to say after that. In fact, I was low-key embarrassed to have said it at all.

“I hope you’re grateful,” I added.

“Yes! I’m so grateful!” She dashed forward and wrapped her arms around my midsection in a hug.

I didn’t actually need her to thank me, but she’d called me on my bluff, and now I was left without a way out of it. Then she started nuzzling her face against my stomach. She was so pure and innocent, her heart probably sparkled just as much as her hair. So, why did that kind of unabashed sincerity rub me the wrong way? Perhaps it was because, at age sixteen, I was caught halfway between childhood and adulthood, and anything that wasn’t buried in a thick layer of irony was hard to accept head-on. Was this just part of the territory that came with being a teenager?

“Well, I don’t think we should keep standing around here…but I’m not sure where else we could really go.”

I was wearing a school uniform, so we couldn’t exactly hang out at a café or anything. And while Yashiro and I were technically friends, she was very visibly not related to me, and I didn’t want people to think I was some kind of child kidnapper.

My first thought was to walk her to her house, but somehow I could tell without asking that I was never going to find out where she lived. Not because I genuinely believed that she was an alien, but still. Just a feeling I had.

With nowhere else to go, my instinctive next thought was the gym loft at my school. It was what my brain defaulted to when I tried to think of a secluded little nook, which is how I’d ended up hanging out there in the first place.

“Let’s go to your house!” Yashiro suggested, still persistently clinging to my midsection.

My house, huh? My mother was probably gone by now, so it wasn’t strictly out of the question. Still, if I went back home, it would mean forfeiting any illusion I had of actually going to school today.

“Is Little home?”

“Little? Oh, you mean my sister?”

Yashiro nodded eagerly.

In what world would my kid sister be at home on a weekday morning? “She’s at school . Remember?”

“Awwww…” Yashiro slumped in a dramatic display of disappointment. Fortunately, her grip on me loosened, and I found I could use my legs again.

Glancing away from the graveyard in the vague direction of my high school, I scratched my head. “Well…I guess it can’t hurt as long as I don’t make a habit of it.” And so, I took responsibility and made the conscious choice to skip school.

It felt so odd, walking back down the same path I’d just run—not to mention with a little blue-haired gremlin in tow. I hated the cold, and I hated expending energy, so what was I even doing with my life?

Yet, despite my weary sigh, I found I didn’t mind it much at all.

***

I pulled off my jacket and crawled back into my futon, still wearing the rest of my uniform. I knew I’d suffer for my transgressions, but I just couldn’t be bothered. Then at some point I drifted off to sleep, and when I awoke, I found Yashiro sound asleep beside me under the blanket.

Her head still rested on my arm, which was now numb from the elbow down. Was this the peaceful, sleeping face of a six-hundred-year-old? Doubtful. As I watched her, I felt my eyelids slowly grow heavier once more. Even after they shut, I still faintly saw those blue sparkles… It was so cozy and peaceful, I felt a pleasant dream waiting for me.

An unknown amount of time passed…and then my fuzzy brain faintly heard the doorbell ring. But I was in no condition to get out of bed.

Yashiro, however, sprang out on a hair-trigger and started spinning in place. “Are you sleepy, Shimamura-san?”

“Mnnnn…”

“Shall I answer it for you?”

“Yes, please…”

“Leave it to me!” She tottered off down the hall.

She’s so much more considerate than my sister, I thought, impressed. Smiling, I rolled over—but, right as I was about to drift back off to sleep, I realized my mistake.

If the person at our door was a newspaper salesman…or a neighbor…or…literally anyone, now that I thought about it…Yashiro’s presence would only cause more problems. So, left with no other option, I forced myself out of bed and headed after her.

My brain was still half asleep, and everything from my neck to my lower back felt like lead. Rubbing my eyes, I stepped out of my room…and spotted Adachi standing at the threshold. From the fact that she wore her uniform, my guess was that she’d decided to stop by after school let out.

“Oh, hey, it’s Adachi.”

Admittedly, I was kind of surprised to see her here. I looked down at my clothes, and sure enough, they were completely wrinkled, just as I feared they would be.

“Oh well.” No big deal—it’s just Adachi, I figured, so I didn’t bother running back into my room to get changed. Then I realized the little blue one was missing. “Where’s Yashiro?”

“She left. Said she had to go ‘procure dinner,’ whatever that means.”

“Oh, right. She’s such a free spirit. So, what’s up?”

I gave her a look that asked, “Did you need something?”

“Well, you didn’t come to school today, so I thought maybe you were sick. I sent you a message, you know,” Adachi explained quickly, fiddling with her bangs.

At the word “message,” I turned back and glanced in the direction of my room. Where did I put my phone? Oh, right. It’s probably still in my bookbag.

“Oh, sorry. I left my phone in my bag, so I didn’t notice.”

At this point, my neck and back started to feel better. Cold air blew through the open front door, clearing the fuzz from my mind. Knowing me, I give it maybe sixty seconds before the cold goes from “nice” to “nightmare.”

So, why was Adachi here? She looked a bit sulky; her lips pouted slightly. Was she annoyed that I didn’t respond to her message?

“Well, anyway, I came by to make sure you were doing okay. Sorry if I woke you.”

“Awww, you’re such a sweetheart!” I reached out to her completely on impulse, as if she were my little sister; my fingers combed through her hair. But the arm I used was still numb from when Yashiro slept on it, so I couldn’t feel much of anything. What a waste.

Initially Adachi flinched when I touched her, but after that, she stared at the floor and let me carry on.

“Ack, sorry. Force of habit.”

I didn’t want her to yell at me for being patronizing, so I started to pull away—but she leaned forward with my retreating hand, almost as if she was drawn by magnetic force. Was this her way of saying “keep going”? As a test, I started petting her again; in response, she fell still. Evidently, I was right.

Now I understood precisely what Adachi wanted from me; she wanted something to lean on. Something that would be there for her no matter what.

In the past, that “something” was the gym-loft wall. We shared that space together, watched the seasons change together, moved on together… Now I was the thing holding her up. How did that happen?

“Well, okay then.”

Bashful, Adachi stared at the floor…but she didn’t pull away. I didn’t know what was going on with her, but at least the feeling started returning to my hand.

She was a needy baby, and I’d accepted that. Our connection was as real as the hair between my fingers.

~Thursday, February 13~

Unfortunately, after babysitting all day, I wasn’t able to go shop for chocolate yesterday. (Yes, I’m blaming that on Yashiro, and no, I don’t feel bad about it.) Now my only option was today after school, so I spent all of gym class thinking about where to go. After all, grocery-store chocolate bars were casual snacks, not heartfelt gifts. Maybe my sister wouldn’t mind if I gave her the cheap stuff, but Adachi absolutely would. At least, I was pretty sure. She seemed to care about formalities a little more than I did.

Adachi and I sat on the sidelines, watching the volleyball sail back and forth through the air while Hino and Nagafuji ran around their half of the court. Hino was doing fine, but Nagafuji moved basically at random, and even I could tell that she was an active detriment to her team. Maybe wear your glasses next time.

As the two of us sat side by side on the yellowed and slightly squeaky gym floor, I could almost hear the chirping of last summer’s cicadas. I glanced at Adachi out of the corner of my eye to find her staring up at the second-floor loft. Evidently, she was reminiscing too. Did some part of her still want to go back there?

Sad to say, we’d freeze into little ice statues if we tried to hide out up there right now. I was content to simply follow the flow of the ever-changing seasons instead, so I faced forward and pretended not to notice where she was looking. Time to figure out my after-school plans.

The candy store near the bookshop was an option. Its parking lot was always full whenever I passed by, which naturally led me to think the place must be popular. It was also, if memory served, the same place where I’d bought a cake for my sister’s birthday. Not that I really remembered what the cake tasted like, other than “sugary.”

I could take the train to Nagoya and check the underground mall—they’d probably have a lot more options there—but, given my inclination toward laziness, it was doubtful I could work up the motivation to actually go. Granted, Adachi would probably appreciate it more if I did, but… Well, I mean, obviously I wanted my gift to make her happy, but… Again, the level of effort made me hesitate.

By the time gym class ended and lunch period began, I’d successfully decided I would bite the bullet and buy something from the local candy store. On to my meal—a premade sandwich I’d picked up at the convenience store on my way to school this morning. Adachi also had a sandwich; she washed down each bite with a sip of mineral water. Why did her lunch seem so miserable and bland in comparison? Was it because I couldn’t see her face from back here?

Sometimes the two of us ate lunch together; sometimes we ate separately. Each day had a fifty-fifty chance of either outcome. But it wasn’t like the days of the week were any different from each other—so what was it that inspired Adachi to come sit with me only some of the time? I was a tiny bit curious. Did she only want to eat lunch together on good days? Or was it a consolation prize reserved for bad days?

As I contemplated this, my phone rang inside my bookbag. Normally I kept it turned off during school hours, but today I must’ve forgotten. Who could possibly be calling me? I took it out to check.

It was Tarumi. Her ash-brown hair floated to the forefront of my mind. Tarumi’s calling me? This was something I hadn’t anticipated. Since the classroom was a little too loud for a phone call, I stepped out into the hallway, walked to the end, and leaned against the wall. Then I picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

I felt the chill of the wall through my uniform. I pressed my bare thigh against it experimentally and nearly yelped in surprise.

“Hey, Shima-chan. You free today?”

She didn’t even bother saying “it’s Tarumi”—just cut straight to her question. So, was I free today? “You mean after school? I was gonna go shopping real quick.”

“Mind if I tag along? Or were you gonna go with your other friends?”

The conversation was progressing pretty much the way I’d expected it to—in other words, we were planning another hangout. It still felt so sudden, though. What should I say?

She was an old friend. Emphasis on old . I didn’t know this new her. At the same time, if we were friends before—and in fact, we were besties—maybe we could be friends again. Maybe that magic was still there.

“Nah, no one else is coming, but you can tag along if you want. Where do you wanna meet up?”

“How about at the station? Maybe in front of the donut shop?”

“Mmm…sure, that’ll work. Meet you there after school at like…4:30.”

With this agreement now in place, I hung up. Then I stared at the phone screen and stroked my chin in contemplation. I wasn’t expecting to hear from Tarumi, much less see her again, quite so soon.

“Guess I am going to see her again, huh?”

I had some faint, lingering reservations about the choice I’d made.

In elementary school, Tarumi and I were practically inseparable, like Hino and Nagafuji. So, maybe it wouldn’t be that weird…but on the other hand, I wasn’t exactly excited, either. We’d have to make up for lost time with a lot of conversation. Granted, we’d obviously have to talk about something either way, but… Well, maybe it would all work itself out. In the end, I decided to err on the side of optimism.

Anyway, since I was already obligated to go to the train station, maybe it couldn’t hurt to ride out to Nagoya and see what they had on offer. One reason was never quite enough to motivate me, but when there were two reasons to do something, I started to delude myself into thinking it was the rational choice. Weird how my brain works.

When I stepped back into the classroom, I found Adachi looking over at me. I waved at her; she waved back stiffly. Nice. Mission accomplished. Of course, I hadn’t actually accomplished anything, but that was neither here nor there—I was now in an uncommonly good mood.

When I walked back to my desk, I found Nagafuji eating my freaking sandwich . She chewed slowly, pensively, as if she was ruminating on its flavor.

“Hey!”

“Little too heavy on the mayo with this one.”

“What gives you the right to eat my food?!”

There she was, sitting at my desk, eating (and critiquing) my lunch. Who do you think you are? Yashiro? I chased Nagafuji out of my chair and examined my sandwich.

“Ugh, you took giant bites!”

There was almost nothing left of it. The crust formed a crescent, like the meager remains of a bombed island. Furthermore, as if in exchange, half of a ground-meat cutlet now sat on my desk.

“If you add one of our signature cutlets to your sandwich, it’ll taste a lot better,” Nagafuji explained matter-of-factly, the corners of her mouth sticky with mayonnaise.

“Gee, thanks for the sales pitch. I’ll be sure to let my mom know.” I raised a hand and shooed her away.

She jogged back over to Hino…

“Did you bring me some?”

“Sure did.”

…and put one final bite of my sandwich into Hino’s mouth. You jerks!

I contemplated a counterattack, but from the looks of it, they’d already finished their food. So, I settled for the cutlet instead. Pretty sure I ate this same thing last week, but whatever, I thought, nibbling cautiously in case Hino and Nagafuji had put something weird inside to prank me. Nope, just ordinary minced meat. Relieved, I glanced over at them. Aaaand they’re thumb wrestling. Never a dull moment with those two. I shook my head and laughed to myself.

Then Adachi turned and looked back at me. I started to wave at her again, but she beat me to the punch this time. Why did she always have to make it look so awkward? Her movements were tense and jittery, almost like she wasn’t sure how long to wave for. It was funny, the way the wave perfectly encapsulated her timid, anxious energy. Still, I waved back smoothly as if trying to set an example.

For once, my lunchtime wasn’t quite so bland.

It was fun to share a classroom with Hino, Nagafuji, and Adachi. I enjoyed their silly antics. But this would only last another two months at most.

What sort of springtime was in the cards for me?

***

This time of year, I always hated having to go outside. Silently, I cursed whoever decided to put Valentine’s Day in February. I mean, obviously there were probably legitimate cultural reasons for that. Plus, it couldn’t happen in summer or else the chocolate would melt. But, in that case, why focus on chocolate at all?

First, I hurried home to change clothes; then I rode our family bicycle to the train station. Times like these, I was really starting to wish I had a bike of my own so I could get to and from school more easily. Maybe I could pick up a short-term part-time job during spring vacation. I should ask Adachi about it, since she knows more about this stuff than I do.

Fighting against the flow of people—students young and old, all of them heading home for the day—I soon arrived at the station. By the time I reached the donut shop, Tarumi was already waiting for me in the exact same spot where Adachi and I had eaten our donuts. She wore her school uniform, but didn’t carry a bookbag; when she spotted me, she pulled her shoes on and rose to her feet.

“’Sup!”

“Good evening,” I greeted her, then immediately realized it wasn’t evening yet. But, instead of correcting myself, I fell silent.

She led me to the nearby escalator, and we hopped on. I hadn’t told her about my plans, but apparently she was contemplating somewhere in the general direction of Nagoya too. As I stared at the back of Tarumi’s head, something felt ever-so-faintly wrong about this. Almost like I was hanging out with a stranger.

“So, what are you going shopping for?”

“Chocolate.”

“Oh yeah? You got a boyfriend or something?” she asked excitedly.

No, but I’m guessing you probably do. “Nah, it’s just for a friend,” I answered.

We never would have gossiped about boys back in elementary school. I guess we really have grown up. But when comparing my memories to my reality, my memories were bound to lose. A tiny pinprick of melancholy pierced my chest.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Like a baby bird, our conversation fluttered and flopped, but never quite got off the ground. Try as we might, we couldn’t spread our wings and take flight. The lost time worked against us.

As I bought a ticket from the ticket machine on the second floor, I thought about Adachi. If she saw me hanging out with another friend, I was pretty sure things would get…you know…weird . Like if she’d seen me holding hands with Yashiro that one time. That kind of weird.

I hardly ever took the train in general, especially not at this time of day, so it felt kind of surreal to pass through the turnstiles. On the staircase, we crossed paths with some Nagoya high-school students. Tarumi started walking faster; I picked up the pace to match. She must’ve realized that the Nagoya-bound train had already pulled up to the platform.

When we reached the landing, the intercom informed us that the train would depart shortly, so we raced into the closest car. We’d only taken a few steps inside by the time the doors closed behind us.

“Close shave, huh?”

“Yeah, we really cut it close.”

Breathing heavily, Tarumi smoothed down her hair. Meanwhile, I straightened my shirt. We turned in the direction of the train’s movement. Up ahead, there was a single seat available in a cluster of four facing each other; Tarumi and I exchanged a glance, but neither of us took the initiative.

“Wanna sit down?” I asked.

“You can if you want to,” she replied.

There was an awkward silence as we stood there, frozen—staring at each other, but not really seeing.

I caved.

“Okay then…I guess I’ll…sit down?”

“Sure.”

Neither of us were actively trying to be polite; we were both just too reserved to make a move. Maybe if there were two free seats, this would’ve played out a little more smoothly.

Even after I took the seat, however, I still felt incredibly awkward.

Gripping the grab rail nearest me, Tarumi stood directly in front of me. She stooped slightly, as if to get a good look at my face. What were we supposed to talk about now? I dug through my old memories, hoping for something I could use as a reference, but nothing came to mind. Our favorite snacks? Field trips at school? Anime?

My mind was all over the place, desperately poring over anything and everything I remembered, but I couldn’t concentrate on any one memory in particular. Instead, I decided my only option was to default to a safe topic: current events.

“So…you’re in high school now, huh?”

“Yeah, man. Check out this uniform!”

She tugged her sleeve and laughed. I laughed with her. God, I’m so stupid.

“You’re in high school too, right, Shima-chan?”

“Duh.” We’re the same age, remember?

Now that we’d both stated the obvious, we fell silent. The conversation was threatening to die. This looming silence with her was different—tenser—compared to silence with Adachi. When Adachi and I ran out of things to say, the air between us grew cold…but at least we could revive it with a little warmth. With Tarumi, however, it felt like I was trying to reheat stale, month-old leftovers.

Some things were just better-off thrown out and replaced.

“Are you actually going to school these days?” I asked. “I heard you skip.”

“Sometimes I go, sometimes I don’t. What about you? Your hair can’t seem to make up its mind.” She reached out and grabbed two strands of my hair—one dark, one bleached. I looked at them as she held them up, suspended aloft like a bug’s antennae.

Brown and black. New me, old me.

“Say, what was it you used to call me back in elementary school?” Tarumi asked, stooping a bit lower. Her question—and her gaze—made my heart skip a beat.

As she reached out to touch the past, her hand pricked me like a tiny thorn.

“Dunno. I forget.”

Truth be told, I still remembered…but my embarrassment won out. As a result, my reply came out a lot more flippant than I meant it to.

For a moment, Tarumi stared, eyes wide, mouth agape. My expression followed suit as I realized my error. I pursed my lips tightly together as if they were frozen stiff.

She let go of my hair and closed her eyes. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you, Shima-chan?”

“Yeah.”

Maybe that was my biggest problem. The old me was so different, she was practically another person. Cheerful, friendly, ditzy, free-spirited… Honestly, I was a lot like Yashiro back then. Was that the version of me Tarumi hoped to hang out with? I felt so awkward, almost like I was the Adachi of this friendship.

Real life just wasn’t as malleable as memories were.

Tarumi turned her back to me and stared out the window for a long, long moment. As that moment wore on, I started to wish the train would make a U-turn so I could go home. Fortunately(?), not long after I started bargaining with God to get me out of here, we pulled into Nagoya station.

It was only a twenty-minute train ride, if that, yet somehow it had felt three times longer than my least-favorite class at school. My joints were stiff, and my body felt like lead. Evidently, stress had descended over my physical form like a light dusting of snow.

As we silently deboarded the train onto the platform, Tarumi and I encountered crowds upon crowds of people waiting in lines. While we walked past, my nose picked up all sorts of smells, both good and bad. As we stepped through the turnstiles, the variety of scents only increased further.

On our way to the department store, Tarumi looked at the station’s trademark Golden Clock. “Do you remember the murder that happened here a few years ago?”

“What? There was a murder?”

I didn’t recollect that at all. Reflexively, I looked up at the clock, then back down at the people waiting beneath it. It was such a popular landmark, I could scarcely imagine a corpse or bloodstain under it. Time marches on, I guess.

“Yeah, there was. Big cities are scary like that, huh?”

“No kidding,” I nodded.

And so, the two country bumpkins entered the department store.

We passed the kiosks of hats and purses and boarded the down escalator—Tarumi in front, me behind her. Something about this felt off, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

As with the last time I’d been here, the basement floor brimmed with people. The lights were unnaturally bright to the point that they actually made me uncomfortable. At first I wandered aimlessly, but then I smelled something sugary and tracked it to the confectionery section.

Both Tarumi and I were too busy looking around to really try to have a conversation. If we put the effort in, we could surely have dug up some old anecdote to wax nostalgic about, but the winter ground was too cold and hard for those seeds of potential to take root.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tarumi could tell I felt that way, too. I couldn’t even look her in the eye.

Once we entered the confectionery section, I started to have second thoughts about shopping for chocolate. I had failed to ask Adachi what kind she liked, so I didn’t have any idea what to look for. After a moment of internal debate, I decided I’d buy my gift at the kiosk with the longest line at the register. After all, if a lot of people shopped there, then clearly the products had to be good stuff, right? It felt like a logical deduction, but at the same time, it also felt like the easy way out.

Since Tarumi wasn’t planning to buy anything, I didn’t really see the need for her to line up, but she joined me nonetheless. Now I felt guilty for dragging her here…but if I tried to apologize, I would come off as distant. Then again, we weren’t exactly best friends anymore.

Here in this warm, bustling hub of social activity, we were as cold as winter itself.

After a long, long wait, I finally bought my chocolates. Tarumi and I both heaved deep sighs, as though we shared the physical strain of overexerting ourselves in an unfamiliar social setting.

Well, at least that’s one thing we have in common, I thought sadly.

We walked silently to the escalator, stepped aboard, and rode back up to the ground floor. The only sound was my paper bag crinkling. Directly ahead of us, I caught sight of an LED display—used for advertising purposes, but currently deactivated—positioned outside the station. Beyond the display lay the purple sunset.

This was normally the part when I would ask where we were headed next—if there was anywhere she wanted to go. But my gaze was fixed straight ahead, and the words wouldn’t come.

Tarumi was waiting for me to say it…or, more accurately, waiting for the old me to step out from behind the curtain. But if so, she’d be waiting a long time. The only words I could offer her were those the chilly winter air drove out of me. The words of a coward.

“Okay, well…time to go home, I guess?”

“Yeah.”

Perhaps “agonizing” was the best way to describe this moment.

This was supposed to be fun and exciting, to breathe new life into an old friendship. But in reality, there was no magic spark. The air between us was heavy, suffocating, and downright frustrating.

If I were to lay the blame at someone’s feet, most likely the fault was mine. I didn’t know how to rekindle the fire, so instead I shuddered in the cold.

We walked all the way back to the turnstiles without any detours. Honestly speaking, I didn’t expect the shopping trip to be over quite this quickly. I’d spent more time waiting in line than talking to my so-called friend.

Good thing I hadn’t emailed my mom to tell her that I wouldn’t need any dinner tonight. That wasn’t a conscious choice made in anticipation of this outcome, yet it ended up working out in my favor regardless.

I turned to look at Tarumi—scratching her head, eyes closed, like she was tired. Tired of the new me. Surprisingly enough, the thought really hurt.

So, I pretended not to see her.

We passed through the turnstiles, up the stairs, and directly onto the crowded rush-hour train.

To the right, night had fallen; to the left, the sunset still faintly lingered. Almost as if the train car’s windows were barriers between two separate worlds. Swaying in the crowd, I let my mind float away into the darkness like a lantern set adrift.

What value did people see in the past? Was it a time when they were happier? More innocent? Back before they got hurt? If so, all these things equally applied to myself. But my past was bound in brambles, and if I tried to pull it close, the thorns would cut me deep. I didn’t have the experience required to navigate around them without getting injured.

I couldn’t think of any especially bad memories off the top of my head, but my past self was just so different from my current self, I didn’t want to look her in the eye. Maybe, in a way, I didn’t like change…or maybe I just really liked the person I was right now? Yeah, that makes sense. I wanted to stay the way I was—I didn’t want to remember the version of me who never learned from her mistakes.

Classic teenager nonsense, I scoffed to myself as I pretended to be unaffected.

Just then, my phone beeped. Since I was standing there in silence, I managed to hear it through the hum of noise in the train car. It was an email from Adachi. Casually shielding my phone from Tarumi’s view, I opened the email curiously.

“Are you free tomorrow would you want to go somewhere and hang out”

The message was one big jumble with no punctuation, as if she wrote it really quickly. I pictured her typing on her phone at the speed of light and chuckled to myself; Tarumi heard and looked over at me.

“What’s so funny?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, nothing,” I replied, pressing a hand to my mouth. For some reason, I didn’t want to tell her…and that felt like an indication of where things stood with our friendship. I promptly wrote back to Adachi. “Sure, no problem.”

This was the friendship I cherished today.

The train arrived at our little town. Tarumi got off first, and I followed after her. That was when I realized that we hadn’t spent much time walking side by side. Adachi, however, always wanted to walk next to me—mostly so she could hold my hand.

There was a time when I used to walk shoulder to shoulder with Tarumi, but now we walked single file…and the moment we entered a crowd, we might just go our separate ways forever. That was where we stood right now.

Once we went through the turnstiles, my former best friend turned back to me. Strangers passed her in a steady stream on both sides, and the current was starting to pull her away.

She raised a hand casually. “Well…see you.”

There was a hesitant pause as Tarumi offered a curt goodbye. I stood there, stock-still, and watched her go.

Is this what you want?

The question swayed me as if I was in the train car all over again.

Then I realized something. At some point I’d made a mistake—some sort of stumble along the way—and I’d probably have an easier time saying goodbye if I made sure to correct it first.

I couldn’t change my past self, but I could change this. I could change us .

“Hmm…”

Something held me back.

“Hmmm…”

Something I couldn’t quite define.

“Mmmmm…”

I knew what I was supposed to do, yet all I could do was groan. My brain boiled.

“Mmmnngh…!”

Figure it out already! I smacked the back of my head. Hard. My vision swam from the impact.

Then, at last, I realized what I needed to do.

Staring into the fog wouldn’t get me anywhere, but if I blurred myself to match, I started to see something. I ran after it, deep into the forest. Before it disappeared completely, I reached out and seized those brambles with all my might.

For once, it wasn’t the pain I was afraid of.

“Taru-chaaaan!”

I had no thorns in my palms—only flushed cheeks and a thumping heart.

Once upon a time, she was my favorite person in the whole world. Would my voice reach her through the crowd?

No. She was fading into the distance, one step at a time. She couldn’t hear me.

My arms slumped to my sides—but then I decided to try again. I cupped my hands firmly around my mouth.

“I’M TALKING TO YOU, TARU-CHAAAAN!”

It was the old me calling out to her.

I couldn’t turn my back on the present. For most people, change didn’t come easily. So, really, this was just a tiny fraction of the old me, briefly rising to the surface.

Tarumi whirled around suddenly, the same way she had at the butcher shop the day we reunited. She had a shocked look on her face; I didn’t know what I looked like, but if I had to guess, I was probably smiling.

“I’ll see you around!”

My voice was loud and cheerful, like it used to be back in the days when I believed in forever.

If memory served, “I’ll see you around” was the last thing I’d said to her back in elementary school—a turn of phrase so casual, it didn’t even count as a promise. Back then, I was so sure I’d see her again soon…and then “soon” turned into years. Did she even remember?

The truant girl raised her hand and waved emphatically, grinning from ear to ear as if we were kids again. All these years later, we were exchanging the same unspoken vow to one day meet again.

Would there even be a next time? I didn’t know. Our friendship had long since rusted over and fallen apart. Maybe the wreckage had simply caught the light at just the right angle.

But there was one thing I could say for sure: Tarumi’s smile was so electrifying, it zapped me right down to my fingertips.

***

And so, the fourteenth finally rolled around.

Man, that took forever.